Pitbabe S2, Chapter 33 pg 3
Pitbabe S2, Chapter 33 pg 3
“I know. I don’t expect everything to go my way,” Jeff took a deep breath, and it seemed just mentioning the issue was enough to make the wreckage from the emotional storm that had just passed crash down on his heart again. “I just don’t know what to do. Phii Alan has never been like this—can’t talk, can’t do anything. Just a slight touch, and we’re already fighting.”
“Any guesses about what it could be? No ideas at all?”
“I’ve tried thinking, but I can’t figure it out.”
From the look on his face, I could tell he’d really tried. Since he started dating Phii Alan, I’ve never seen Jeff like this. Honestly, I thought they were almost the perfect couple—both calm, rational, listening to each other, trusting each other so much that I’ve barely seen them get jealous. Yet, you could always feel their deep love. Even though the guys at the garage teased that Phii Alan and Jeff had a relationship like a retired married couple, I saw it as a lasting love worth envying.
“Was the fight about that… the thing you said you wanted to ask?”
“Yeah, I tried asking.”
“And when he didn’t answer, you got mad, right?”
“It’s so obvious he’s not okay, and he still says, ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ over and over. Doesn’t he think about how suffocated I feels?”
“I get why you’d feel that way. It’s really uncomfortable,” I listened and responded calmly. “But do you think Phii Alan might feel uncomfortable too, not being ready to talk about this with you?”
Jeff went quiet. I knew he was listening and processing with his own logic. Babe once said that when Jeff and I talk, we’re like characters in an indie film—speaking in riddles, softly under our breath, pausing longer than usual before replying. But I don’t see anything weird about it. People should listen and think before responding, not just hear something and spit out whatever’s already in their head without direction. What’s the point of a conversation like that?
“Probably,” Jeff answered softly, looking down at his feet as if feeling guilty, even though I didn’t mean to make him feel that way. But feelings are about interpretation, and I can’t control how he takes it. “He’s probably acting different because he’s uncomfortable.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong, Jeff. I just want you to calm down a bit. Even as his younger brother, I can tell he must have some reason for acting like this. And you’re his boyfriend, living together. I think you know him better than anyone.”
I’m annoyed at myself for being so logical about other people’s problems while my own life is a complete mess I don’t know how to handle. If I were someone else, I wouldn’t dare lecture anyone like this, but I happen to have less shame than most. So, I can still give my little brother some tough love, even if I’m barely holding it together myself.
“When you talked to him, there really wasn’t anything going on, right?” Jeff asks about the conversation I had with Phii Alan a few days ago regarding the missing drug samples. Only Phii Alan and I know what was said, so Jeff can’t help but be curious.
“Like I said, it was nothing. I didn’t think he took it. I just had to ask to put everyone at ease and make it fair for everyone under suspicion.”
“But Phii Alan’s been acting weird with you. Like he doesn’t want to see you,” Jeff presses, unable to stop digging for the reason behind Phii Alan’s strange behavior. “Don’t you feel something’s off?”
“Nah. He seemed normal when we met.”
“But just now, he was totally off. I tried getting him to come see you, and he refused, and we ended up fighting.”
Honestly, I’m out of ideas on how to help. When someone won’t open up, guessing doesn’t do much good. So, all I can do is pat my little brother’s shoulder for support. If it were anything else, I might be able to do more, but this is a relationship between two people. No matter how experienced or knowledgeable an outsider like me is, I can’t fully grasp every nook and cranny like the two people involved.
“It’ll get better. Just be patient with it a bit longer.”
“Have you sorted out your own mess yet?”
My sympathy plummets in seconds. I let go of the ungrateful kid’s shoulder and glare at him, but the little punk laughs, delighted at hitting my sore spot.
“Keep talking like that, and I won’t comfort you anymore.”
“Aw, sorry, sorry,” Jeff says, reaching to scratch my chin like I’m a puppy. I swat his hand away, annoyed, and of course, the little brat loves my reaction. “Don’t sulk.”
“Not sulking. Annoyed.”
“Being this grumpy is why you’ve broken up with your girlfriend twice.”
“Jeff, you—”
At first, I was glad Jeff wasn’t so down that he couldn’t smile, but now I’m starting to wish he was a bit sadder. Just a little.
My three musketeer researchers come down to eat lunch and dinner together (because eating in the lab isn’t allowed). All three are dead silent. They seem to have something on their minds constantly, opening their mouths only to shovel food in, refusing to speak as if afraid the information in their heads might leak out. They devour everything in five minutes, stack their plates, spoons, and forks in the sink, and rush back to the lab. They act like this for both meals, leaving Jeff and me too intimidated to ask anything, silently agreeing that scientists probably have their obsessive phases too.
In the end, none of us make it back home.
Not just me and the research crew, but Jeff decided to crash here too. He told me earlier that at noon, he’d laid down the law with Phii Alan: if he kept up the same old behavior, he shouldn’t bother picking him up tonight. And sure enough, no sign of the captain, even now at nearly midnight. I’m not sure if Jeff is still waiting for him, because he’s been hunched over, scribbling work plans to pitch me since noon. Once his tears dried, he hasn’t mentioned Phii Alan again. Part of me feels a bit sorry for the kid—Phii Alan didn’t budge this time. But another part thinks it might be for the best if they take some time apart. Maybe it’ll give them space to reflect and sort things out.
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